Uptown Guy
by waterlilylf
Summary: Life starts to look up for a bookshop owner and a garage mechanic when a cute guy moves in across the street. Ch. 4 is Duo dealing with a hypochondricac Rolls Royce, marauding kittens and a very persistent stalker on Valentine's Day. COMPLETE
1. Even a Pink Flamingo

Disclaimer: I do not, just for the record, own Gundam Wing.

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Note: Thanks to KS, as per usual, for proofing my pronouns and punctuation. This one is for Maskelle, with best wishes for the big adventure. The flamingo is for Snow.

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Uptown Guy:

There was no way that a car like that belonged in our neighbourhood. Not that it was the worst area in Sanque by any means, but it wasn't the sort of place that customarily saw those sort of cars. Too shiny, too expensive, too sleek.

The guy who owned it didn't look like he belonged either.

In the normal run of things, the car would most likely have ended up in a backstreet garage with a new set of plates and a spray job. Instead, the blond guy had been lucky enough to park directly opposite my bookshop, a couple of hours earlier.

I'd made a point a few times during the afternoon of standing in the Circus's doorway, and watching Blondie unload the car. Nothing too overt; just a little signal to anyone who might think the guy was an easy mark.

I tended to get respect. As wild teenager, I'd run with a gang called the Mercenaries. I was still tight with the leader, Kurt. My older sister was a professional knife-thrower, and one of my best friends ran the local Martial Arts club. It didn't hurt that I was tall and worked out and had been a member of the Sanque National Rifle Team. I had the requisite number of tattoos and piercing, and a back yard full of rusty motorbikes that were being slowly restored. Not many people wanted to cross me, even with the gay thing.

I kept the shop open later than usual, casting surreptitious glances over at Blondie every so often. Then I decided I could watch the guy just as well from the diner's window.

'Cute, huh?' Duo looked up from wiping a table; the one with the best view across the street, naturally.

'The guy or the car?'

'Both. You want coffee? I've got some apple pie left if you're hungry.'

'Sure.' I sat down and Duo filled a tray and slid into the booth beside me.

'What d'you reckon he's doing?'

'Moving in by the looks of it. He's dragged about a dozen suitcases up there. And taken down the 'to let' sign.'

Duo nodded. 'Wonder what he's doing slumming down here?'

I took a slurp of coffee; the caffeine buzz almost as good as drooling over the blond. 'Brightens the place up, anyway.'

As if he knew he was being watched, Blondie glanced across the road. He was really, really cute. Nice body in preppy, designer clothes topped off by that shock of gleaming gold hair.

'Toss you for him?' Duo suggested and then grinned wickedly. 'Or we could share?'

'Yeah, right. Like he'd be interested in us.' Well, he might be interested in Duo, who wasn't just gorgeous, but funny and talkative and charming. 'He's probably straight, anyway.'

'Uh huh.' Duo shook his head. 'No way, Tro. Not in those clothes. And he's got a whole set of matching luggage.'

'Not conclusive.'

'OK, then. He never batted an eyelid when Hilde walked past in her shortest skirt. And there's a rainbow sticker on the back bumper. What's more, I'll bet he's just walked out on his boyfriend.'

'You know that how?' I dug into the apple pie, which was probably all the satisfaction I'd be getting that evening, far too used to my friend's flights of fancy to take him seriously.

'Work it out.' Duo leaned over and dipped a finger in my whipped cream. 'I'm guessing he has all his worldly goods, and then some, in the car. And if he wasn't in a hurry to find a place to stay, there's no way he'd have taken that place. Come on, it's been empty for nearly six months, ever since that old guy died up there. Bet you anything Blondie had a row with his boyfriend and stormed out. You could be his rebound guy.'

'Thanks a lot,' I muttered dryly. 'That's all I've ever wanted.'

Probably the only way I'd ever get someone like that, though…

'Aw, Tro. I'm kidding. Why don't you go over and say hi? Help him carry his stuff upstairs? Into the bedroom?'

I just shrugged, letting my hair fall over my face. What was the point? I wasn't the sort of person that someone like that would ever go for. If Duo was right, and Blondie was guy, he probably had a boyfriend. No one who looked that good could possibly be single. He probably had a whole queue of guys wanting to take him out to fancy French restaurants.

'Oh, look, he's got a giant pink flamingo!'

'What?'

It was true. Blondie was currently wrestling what looked like a larger-than-life stuffed flamingo out of the back seat, juggling it together with a violin case and a laptop bag. It wasn't going too well, either. The bird's beak, from what I could see, was wedged between the back seats.

'Watching the blond guy trying to drag it out was just too entertaining for words. Especially when he straightened up, flung off his jacket, tossed it in the back seat of the car, and bent down again.

'Oh, cute ass,' Duo whistled.

I didn't say anything, which was the normal state of affairs for our friendship. Duo never stopped talking; I rarely bothered unless I had something to say. Besides, I was too busy admiring the cute ass as it wiggled its way into the car. Oh, God. If he didn't get the flamingo out in sixty seconds, I'd go and help. I really would. Really. I just needed to store every detail of that perky little butt in my mind for future fantasies.

Oh, gotcha,' Duo cheered, as Blondie emerged from the car, prettily flushed and flustered and with one arm wrapped around his flamingo's neck, and slammed the car door. 'This is pretty cool. Like watching street theatre. D' you suppose he's going to start a shop selling huge toy birds or something?'

'He's only got one, so far. Won't be much of a shop.'

'Could be more on order, though. And he's taken the lease on the shop and the flat. He must be planning to start some sort of business.'

Across the street, Blondie draped his violin case and laptop bag over one shoulder, hoisted the stuffed bird in the other arm, and headed for his front door, which he'd prudently shut. Duo was right; it was a bit like watching a street performance. He tried the door handle, which didn't give an inch, whirled back to his car, tried the door of that, and then twigged that the jacket was shut inside the car, presumably with his keys inside.

'Ooops.' Duo muttered. 'What's the betting his 'phone's in the jacket pocket as well? And maybe his wallet? Doesn't look he's got room to store anything in those jeans. Anything that's not natural anyway.'

'I'll see if I can help,' I stood up and headed for the door.

'Tro, give him a sec,' Duo followed, laying one hand on my arm.

I swung around to stare at him. 'He's in trouble. Either of us could open that car in a second. Or the front door.'

'Sure we could. But d'you really want to introduce yourself and then show him your talents at B and E as a conversation starter?'

'Oh!'

'Give him ten seconds, tops. He'll come over. Look at it this way; it's getting dark, he's locked out of his car and his home; we're just across the road and we're the only place open. Where else can he go, really?'

Blondie seemed to come to the same conclusion, after looking up and down the street, and making a few more aborted attempts to open the car door. It took him a few more minutes to gather the rest of his belongings.

'Good evening,' he said formally, his tone very polite even though he was obviously taken aback by us both. His mother had probably warned him about guys like us. 'I wonder if I might possibly use your telephone for a moment.'

''Course you can.' Duo produced his and held it out. 'Everything OK?'

'Well, I'm having a spot of bother, actually,' Blondie informed him. 'Thank you. So stupid of me; I've managed to lock myself out of my car. I just need to call a friend who has a spare set of keys.' He reached for Duo's phone, sending the flamingo soaring over his shoulder, and almost dropping the violin, which Duo just grabbed at the last moment.

'Oh, I'm so sorry.' Eventually, they got everything stashed neatly in my booth, the violin on the table and the flamingo sitting between me and Blondie. Duo went for a brush to sweep up the china that had got broken by the flamingo's flight across the table. Among profuse apologies, he called his friend, left a message and then apologised to us both again. 'This really isn't my night. I'm not normally so clumsy as all this.'

God, I sincerely hoped he wasn't planning to start a shop selling anything breakable. 'Ah, don't mind me asking, but why the flamingo?'

'Isn't he absurd?' Blondie reached up to stroke the curved beak affectionately. 'Flamingos are my favourite bird, and my sisters gave him to me for my last birthday. He's called Sandrock.'

'Cool,' Duo approved.

'My name is Quatre Raberba Winner.' He looked enquiringly at us both.

'I'm Duo and this is Trowa. He runs the bookshop next door.'

'I saw you this afternoon.' Quatre bestowed a sunny smile on me, and I immediately felt my knees go weak. Then he turned back to Duo, and I decided I hated my best friend. 'Do you own this restaurant?'

'Uh, not really.' Duo floundered, obviously startled by anyone describing Howard's Homestyle Diner as a restaurant. 'My uncle does; I just help out sometimes. I work in the garage at the end of the street.'

'Really?' Quatre beamed at him like he'd actually said something fascinating. Damn. Why couldn't Duo just go and do something constructive instead of hanging around all the time? I was glaring at Duo, hoping he'd take the hint and get lost, when Quatre swung around to me.

'It's so lovely to meet some new neighbours. I'm planning to start a music shop. You don't sell music books, do you, Trowa?'

Oh, he had a lovely way of saying my name. 'No. No, I specialise in fantasy and sci-fi. No music books.' And if I had, I'd have burned them.

'Perfect. Then we shan't be competition for one another,' Quatre enthused happily, but I was starting to get the feeling that this dizzy guy had a certain amount of shrewd business sense. 'I love fantasy books! I'll come and browse around tomorrow if that's all right?'

'Oh, Tro loves browsers,' Duo cut in, giving me a wink. 'You're seriously planning to set up a music shop, are you?' He sounded a bit sceptical. 'You know, I'm not sure if there's much demand for a place like that here.'

'What do you know about it?' I demanded, upping the glare by a few notches. 'I'm sure Quatre knows what he's doing.'

Quatre rewarded that comment with one of those radiant smiles. 'Actually, I think there is demand in this area. I've done a lot of research. All of the local schools have music programmes, but the students need to travel into the city to buy books and instruments. I thought I could maybe give classes as well, and perhaps invite local musicians to give recitals.'

'Sounds like you've really thought this through,' I approved, making him flush happily. He was just so cute. God, I'd have to make sure the shop was a success, even if I had to threaten everyone I knew to patronise it. I didn't want him running back to whatever uptown mansion he'd come from….'It could succeed, you know. I've got a speciality business, but I get customers from all over. And I do a lot of mail order.'

'I really hope it works,' Quatre told me. 'My father thinks I'm insane; he wanted me to go into his business, but I inherited some money and I really want to do this.'

'I'm sure it'll work out,' I said firmly, wondering if Quatre worked out himself. He looked like he was pretty fit, under those spiffy clothes. Maybe he'd be interested in joining my gym. That would be nice… 'I get a lot of customers who are into music. I can point them across the street to your place.'

'Oh, would you?' Quatre gifted him with the most radiant smile. 'That would be marvellous. And I can recommend your bookshop. We could have a reciprocal relationship, don't you think?'

I wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but any relationship with Quatre would be great. 'Sure! I'll show you 'round my shop tomorrow. And I'm pretty good at carpentry and stuff if you need any work done.'

That comment led to a whole flood of effusive thanks, and how relieved his parents would be that he'd already made some new friends. Between him gushing about how kind I was, and Duo smirking at me from his corner, I badly needed to change the subject.

'So, you play the violin?' Wasn't that the world's stupidest question? No, he was probably just carrying it around for fun.

He nodded. 'It's practically my favourite thing in the world.' Well, hadn't he just led the most deprived life ever? 'I love music. Do you play an instrument?'

'The flute. I'm not very good though,' I admitted.

Duo, the bastard, sniggered out loud. I knew exactly what he was getting at; our friend Wufei had told us that 'playing the flute' was a Chinese euphemism for oral sex.

'Don't listen to him, Quatre. He's really good, so I've heard.' Duo grinned over at me. 'Maybe he'll perform for you sometime.'

'I'd like that,' Quatre said happily. 'Perhaps we could try playing together sometime? I have some really good duet pieces and it's so much more fun with someone else.'

'Yeah, I've heard that. ' Duo grinned at me. 'I need to go back to the kitchen to clean up a bit. Trowa can entertain you for a while, right, Tro? Quatre, d'you want a coffee or something first?'

'I'd love some lemon tea, please. That's so kind.'

Duo cast me an agonised WTF look, and I just shrugged. Let him embarrass himself with whatever pathetic attempt he made to produce lemon tea. At least, it would keep him away for a few minutes.

'His hair's amazing, isn't it?' Quatre whispered as Duo sashayed behind the counter.

Fuck.

'I didn't mean it like that!' So what did that mean; that he wasn't attracted to Duo in particular, or guys in general? 'It's just so unusual. I don't think I've ever seen a man with such long hair.'

'Yeah? Wait 'til you meet our buddy Zechs. His is even longer and he wears it loose. I think he'd sort of like to cut it, but his boyfriend loves it.'

Those pretty blue eyes widened slightly at the 'boyfriend' bit. Maybe he wasn't gay, then. Better go it over with before I fell for him any more. 'I'd better tell you now, in case it freaks you out or something. I'm gay too. So's Duo. '

'So am I,' he said matter of factly. 'I have twelve older sisters; it would have been a miracle if I'd turned out straight! I don't think I got to wear proper boys' clothes until I was about five or six because my mother kept getting me to wear my sisters' castoffs. The girls used to tease me about how I'd probably get periods too when I was old enough!'

'Twelve sisters!' I grimaced at the very idea. 'I've got one and she's bad enough. Ah, I'm guessing you never got the period?' Well, I hoped not.

'Fortunately, no,' he trilled with laughter. 'Every time I had a stomach-ache as a child, they used to say it was my time of the month. They were all terrible bullies, really. They still are, in fact.'

'Don't you have a nice boyfriend to defend you?'

He shook for his head. 'Not for over six months. He thought I was insane to walk out on the family company so he walked out on me. Since then, I haven't really had time for anything but getting my shop started.'

Yes!

Cute and single and cute and funny and cute and interested if those cute little sidelong glances were anything to go by. Now, I just needed to reel him in.

'I really like your tattoos,' he said admiringly. 'Are they Celtic designs?'

'These ones are runes.' I touched a finger to the pattern on my right bicep. 'Ancient Norse. It's an incantation to the god, Thor.'

'Cool, aren't they?' Bloody Duo deposited a mug on the table. 'You should get him to show you his other tattoos, Quatre. They're really interesting.'

I showed him one finger, out of Quatre's line of sight, and he waltzed off grinning broadly.

'You don't have to drink the tea,' I whispered. Quatre was looking at the dark liquid with a half lemon floating in it, rather as a foreign traveller might regard a delicacy pressed on him by his host. He plainly didn't want to give offence, and he just had plainly had no intention of drinking it. 'If you want, I live over my shop, and I've got loads of different herbal teas. You can come up for a drink.'

'I don't want to be any trouble,' Quatre said uncertainly. 'It's getting late, and I don't want to impose on you.'

'You're not any trouble. Listen, if you haven't had dinner, I know a great Vietnamese place. Would you fancy getting something to eat?'

'Absolutely. I just need to find somewhere to leave my things.'

'Leave them here,' Duo said at once, materialising by our table. 'I'll be open 'til ten, and if you're later than that, Tro's got a key. And you can call your buddy and ask him to drop your car keys here, OK? I'll put them with the rest of your stuff.'

'Thanks, Duo.' I grinned at him as I pulled on my leather coat. 'See you later.'

'You kids go and have a nice romantic dinner.' He winked broadly and swanned off into the back.

OK, that was it. I was officially going to kill him. Quatre was blushing fierily, eyes fixed on the chipped chrome tabletop.

'Look, just ignore him, all right? He's insane. Probably certifiable. Don't listen to a word he says.'

'Oh.' Those big blue eyes peeked up at me shyly through long lashes. 'Does that mean you're not interested at all?'

'Yes! God, yes! I am, but I didn't want Duo scaring you off before I'd even had a chance to spend time with you.'

'I don't scare that easily,' he murmured, still not looking up, but with a saucy little smile dancing on his lips.

'I guess you don't, at that. So you want to go and get dinner and discuss our favourite fantasy authors?'

'Yes, please.' That coy little smirk deepened. Shit, he even had dimples. I'd never be able to resist the dimples. 'For a minute there, I thought you were going to suggest that we discuss fantasies, pure and simple. I could do that too, if you liked.'

'Uh…really?'

Oh, shit. The cute, not-so-innocent little blond flung me a devastating smile and I had the sudden sensation that I was way, way out of my depth. Still, they do say drowning's a good way to die. I could just tumble in those eyes and never bother coming up for air.

'Hey, wait a sec!' Duo yelled after us as we walked out. 'Quatre, this friend of yours who's coming to get the keys. What's his name?'

Quatre swung 'round, his hand banging against mine, and didn't protest when I grabbed him.

'His name's Heero. Heero Yuy.'


	2. Interfacing

Disclaimer: As per usual.

Note: this is for K.S., who begs so nicely….Thanks to everyone who reviewed Chapter One

**Interfacing: **

I've always believed in love at first sight.

I've always thought that when it happens you just _know_. That this is what's going to make you complete; to make sense of the world and everything you've ever done in your entire life. To fill up the deepest part of your soul and heart.

When Quatre Winner pulled up opposite the diner, it was a case of love at first sight.

I just _knew_.

Trowa fell for the blond guy; hook, line and sinker. He tries to make out he's so tough, but he's really a pussycat who cries during sad movies, especially involving animals, and Bette Middler songs. Because he thinks they're sad in a sorrowful way.

I fell for the car.

Like in all the best romances, it ended with Tro and Quatre strolling off, arm in arm, into the sunset. Well, actually, that's not quite true. They strolled around the corner to eat Vietnamese delicacies at Miss Saigon.

Trowa'd given me a black look as he walked off;. Okay, maybe I'd overdone the teasing just a little, but I'd been trying to get my verbally disinclined friend to open up a bit to Quatre. I mean, it was staggeringly obvious that the blond guy had fallen for him. I'd only been trying to _help. _I'd even sloped off to hide in the back so they could be alone, and Trowa wouldn't think I was any sort of competition.

He'd seen the blond first, and anyway, he knew damn well that blond airheads, no offence to Quatre, weren't my type. If they were, I'd have jumped on Zechs years ago. Well, before Wufei got him.

So they strolled off and left me alone with the perfect view of the car.

It wasn't really a _safe _place to park a car like that. Not when it was starting to get dark, and most of the other businesses had closed up for the night. It was only right that I should keep an eye on it.

And it was so cool. All sleek and shiny under a lamppost, with a beam of light illuminating it perfectly. Shit, it couldn't have been more tempting if it had been wrapped in big shiny ribbons and tinsel and a tag addressed to Duo Maxwell.

I could practically hear it calling my name.

_Duo. Take me for a spin. You know you want to… _

No one would ever know, that was the thing. If no one knows, then you haven't done anything wrong.

No way were Trowa and Quatre going to be back for ages. I could just imagine them, staring into each other's eyes over their plates of noodles, and listening to cheesy Vietnamese love songs.

It wasn't fair, that I was stuck here by myself with that car sitting across the road, and tempting the hell out of me.

I could have the door open in one second.

I could just drive around the block. Once. Slowly. Just to check the battery wasn't flat or anything.

That wouldn't be a bad thing, would it?

Then I started thinking that this whole thing had started with Quatre locking his jacket in the car. It was still there. With his keys and his 'phone and his wallet, most likely. If anyone broke into the car, they would steal his entire _life_.

It wouldn't be right of me to let that happen. By leaving the car there, with who knew what inside, I was enabling any prospective thieves. I was actually _encouraging _them. And stealing is always wrong.

After half an hour, I'd convinced myself that I'd be failing in my duty as Trowa's friend if I didn't move his blond buddy's car. We had a secure parking area behind the diner, for Howard's truck and my bike. There was room enough for a zippy little sports car.

It would be safe there.

Quatre would be really grateful; I could call and let him know what I'd done so he wouldn't have a coronary when he came back and his car had vanished. And if the friend with the keys turned up while I was gone, I'd only be a few minutes, after all. He could wait.

I was still wavering - just a little bit - when a group of teenage boys wandered past. They didn't touch the car or anything, just looked at it admiringly, but the point was that they _could _have.

It was so vulnerable there.

Nope, it was going to be moved. By far the best thing to do. I shoved the 'Back in Five Minutes' sign on the diner door, and ambled across the street, taking my time. Looking at it from all angles. The only thing I wasn't crazy about was the colour. Quatre presumably liked that shade of blue, but I would have preferred black, or maybe a really dark purple. Something a bit more edgy.

There was nothing else to criticise though. Perfection on four wheels. I was running my hand along the shiny bonnet, lost in loving admiration and wondering if Quatre ever really opened the throttle and let it fly. I never even heard the guy approach, knew nothing about it until I was suddenly bent forwards over the car, with my arm twisted behind my back.

I don't possess Trowa's fighting skills; I tend to rely on the fact that I've got fast feet and a faster mouth. I still know how to handle myself. I grew up in a tough neighbourhood where even the Dobermans went around in packs. Having long hair and being gay made me quite the target so I'd learned enough to keep me safe.

I got in a few blows but this guy was good. He knew marital arts; not just a nodding acquaintance; more like knowing in the biblical sense. And it wasn't easy to fight when he had my right arm shoved up my back like a Pretzel.

Damn. Where was Trowa when I needed him? Or Wufei; he knew all those fancy 'Crouching Tiger; Hidden Dragon' moves; he'd spifflicate this guy. Even Hilde with her ten tonne handbag would have come in useful.

Still, he couldn't hold me like this forever. I got the feeling he'd learned his moves in some dojo with rules and principles; if he just let up one tiny bit, I'd kill the fucker.

'I'm making a citizen's arrest,' he panted, and part of me felt just a little bit proud that I'd made him exert himself.

'You're _what_?' OK, not some crazed rapist/lunatic. Just a civic minded citizen. Who thought he was Jackie Chan.

'You were trying to steal that car.'

'Was not. I was checking up on it. I know the guy who owns it; he's a friend of mine.'

'No, he very definitely is not.. I'm calling the police.'

Oh, no. Don't do that.

'I _do _know him. He's called Quatre. Quatre Rab…something Winner. Right?' Damn, how could I prove I knew him? 'He's got a pink flamingo. Called Sandrock.' There; that should clinch it. Surely there was no way he went around blabbing that sort of stuff to just anyone; although, come to think of it, he'd told me and Tro straight off.

Then my brain kicked into gear. I didn't think that Quatre would have all that many friends in this neighbourhood. 'Are you Heero? I'm Duo. From the diner. You're supposed to give me the car keys.'

'I hardly think you need them,' he grunted, although he did lay off the physical pressure and let me stand up.

He wasn't bad looking. I might have been more appreciative if he hadn't just half killed me, and if he didn't have his fingers clenched around the base of my braid in a death grip. When I tried to take a step back from him, he gave an almighty yank and it felt like he'd wrenched out half my hair.

'What were you doing with Quatre's car?'

'I told you. There were a few teenagers hanging around it earlier; I just wanted to check they hadn't damaged it.' I did my best to look virtuously wounded; he obviously wasn't buying it. 'Look, call Quatre. He'll tell you who I am.'

'His 'phone is in the car.'

'Oh yeah.' I took mine out of my back pocket. 'He's gone to dinner with a friend of mine. I can call Trowa.'

'I'll call him.' He grabbed my 'phone out of my hand. God, he was rude. 'Ah, what's the number?'

'Don't know everything, do you? It's on speed dial; 03.'

'I need to talk to Quatre,' he said curtly. 'Tell him it's Heero. Quatre? What the hell is going on? I've just caught someone trying to steal your car and he's claiming to be the guy from the diner.' He spun around to look at me. 'Yes, he does have long hair. Blue eyes, very dark blue.'

'Violet actually. Here, give me that. Quatre? It's Duo. Your friend's a freaking lunatic. He nearly killed me! Can you tell him to give me the keys and sod off to whatever nuthouse he's escaped from?'

'Oh, Duo. I'm so sorry.' He sounded absolutely stricken. 'I'm sure it was all a misunderstanding. Would you like me to come straight back?'

'No. Don't bother. You stay and enjoy your meal. And the company,' I added slyly.

'Well, if you're absolutely sure.' I had to grin; he was so cute, trying to be all polite and obviously dying to stay with Tro. 'Oh, Trowa wants to have a word with you.'

'Duo! Are you all right? What's going on?'

'It's OK. Nothing I can't handle.' I glared at Heero, wondering if my glare would somehow neutralise his, and we'd end up smiling at each other. 'You having fun?'

'Yes. You sure you're OK? Look, Quatre wants to talk to Heero for a sec. Can you put him on?'

'Yeah.' I handed the 'phone over. 'I'll be across the street. Bring that over when you're done, OK? Don't run off with it or anything.'

He walked into the diner about two minutes later.

'Quatre says I'm to apologise to you,' he announced stiffly.

I plonked myself on one of the counter stools. 'Well? I'm waiting.'

He just stared at me. 'For what?'

'For you to apologise.'

'I just did.'

'Nope. You told me that Quatre had told you to apologise. Not the same thing.'

'You're being ridiculous.'

'Fine. Don't say you're sorry. I'll be telling Quatre. And I'll show him the whacking great bruise on my arm where you grabbed me. And I'll tell him you tried to pull my hair out by the roots. Where I come from, only girls do stuff like that.'

'Where I come from, only girls have hair like that.'

'Must be a hell of a boring place then,' I shot back. 'What are you still doing here if you just want to insult me? Just leave the keys and shag off.'

'I'm waiting to see Quatre. I told him I'd be here.'

'Huh. If you have to stay here, would you mind sitting with your face to the wall? That glare of yours will scare away my customers.'

'You don't have any customers.'

True enough. I never quite got why Howard insisted on staying open so late.

'See that?' I pointed to the 'Management reserves the Right to Refuse Admission' sign. 'I can throw you out if I want.'

'You can try, certainly.'

Tosser.

I made a face at him, and then realised that he hadn't just tried to pull the hair out of my head; he'd managed to pull a fair amount out of the braid. It was a total mess.

I walked 'round the counter and ducked down, searching for a comb and shaking my hair loose.

He gaped at me when I popped back up, flipping it over my shoulder. 'What are you doing?'

'Fixing my hair. The hair that you messed up. See this?' I shoved the comb in his face. This is a thing called a comb. From the look of your hair, you've never used one in your life.'

'My hair is windswept.'

'Windswept, hah! It looks like you've been swept all the way from Kansas by a tornado!' It was kind of nice, though; a contrast to his very neat clothes. The sort of hair that makes you want to run your fingers through it and see how it falls, how soft it is.

Gah. I hated this guy. I couldn't have those sort of thoughts about him. That was wrong.

Instead, I reached up my right hand to start combing and winced. '_Ouch_.' Bloody Heero's fault; he'd nearly wrenched my arm out of the socket. No way could I braid one handed. I suppose I could shove it into some sort of loose ponytail, but I preferred to have it tightly pulled back, especially in the diner.

'Here, you.' I thrust the comb into his hand. 'You tried to break my arm; you can damn well do my hair. I don't suppose you know how to braid?'

'I do, yes.' He ran his hands through my hair, and began to divide off the sections. 'I have a horse; I braid his mane for shows.'

'Well, I'm not a horse.' It didn't come out as quite so crossly as I would have liked. Heero's only other experience with hair care might have been with horses, but he was damn good at it, easing the tangles out gently and then smoothing his other hand over my head.

'Why do you have such long hair?'

'None of your business,' I said sharply. 'Why d'you care, anyway? You already told me you didn't like it.'

'I never said that. I think it's amazing. There, all done. Do you have a hair tie?'

'Uh, sure. Here.'

He secured the braid, and then went back to running those hands over my skull. Oh, that was just _so _good. I let my head drop forward, feeling his fingers massage my temples. Wow.

'Is this OK?' His hands dropped down to cup my shoulders, then down again to rub my poor arm.

'Shit, yeah.' At this rate, Trowa and Quatre would come back to find a long haired puddle on the floor.

'I'm really sorry I hurt you, Duo.'

Hey, he'd even remembered my name. And he had a nice way of pronouncing it.

'There!' I got one last, rather clumsy pat on the arm, and he backed off.

'You, ah, you don't have to stop.' I swallowed, wondering if this was really stupid. Hell, I didn't even know for sure if he was gay. And if he was straight and homophobic, he'd probably kill me with his bare hands, or my own comb. 'I mean, not if you don't want to?'

'I think I should stop, actually.' He gave me a rueful little smile. 'Since this is a restaurant, anyone could walk in.'

'I could lock the door. Put up the 'Closed' sign. If you wanted.'

'We shouldn't. Quatre said he'd be here soon.'

'OK, then. You're right. That's probably for the best. Sure. Listen, do you want a chocolate milkshake or something?'

He looked startled. 'Ah. All right. If you're making one. This Trowa person, he's a friend of yours?'

'Yep.' I took a carton of chocolate ice-cream out of the freezer. 'I've known him since we were both little kids. He's a good guy.'

Heero grunted.

'What? You have to approve all of Quatre's boyfriends? I would have thought he's old enough to do that by himself.'

'He is, I suppose.' Heero didn't sound overly happy about that. 'He's just making a lot of changes in his life at the moment. A new career; a new home.'

'So he might as well have a new guy, no? D'you not approve of this music shop idea?'

'I do, very much. It's time he started doing something he enjoys, rather than trying to please his family.'

'Well, maybe he'll enjoy doing Trowa,' I winked at him, scooping ice cream and milk into the blender, and he chuckled back, assuming that choking sound he made with a totally straight face was a laugh. Wow, he had a sense of humour; enough to find my jokes funny anyway. What more could I ask for? Maybe he could even smile. Maybe I could convince him to touch me again, notwithstanding that lame excuse about Quatre being due to turn up. 'What do you do, when you're not running around like some sort of vigilante ninja?'

'I work with computers.'

'Yeah?' I handed him a brimming glass and two straws. 'You don't look like an IT geek.' OK, the smart office clothes maybe did, but not the body and the crazy hair.

'Thanks. I think,' he said dryly, dipping one straw in the shake and licking the end. Very sexy. 'It comes in useful occasionally. I've offered Quatre to help with setting his inventory and cash flow systems.'

'Right.' Ack, he had the cutest little blob of chocolate goo on one corner of his mouth. Just sitting there, begging to be licked off. Instead, I handed him a paper napkin. 'So, does that mean you're going to be hanging around a lot?'

'I will now,' he said calmly. 'Assuming I can find a safe place to park my car. The nearest garage with a security guard is miles away.'

'We've got space behind the diner, if you want. It'll be safe there. What sort of car do you have?' Please, not something boring.

'A 1961 Aston Martin DB4 Vantage. Bentley six cylinder engine. 3.7 litre twin overhead camshaft. Original leather upholstery. Rack and pinion steering. Bodywork designed by Zagato.'

Oh, man, he was such a sweet-talker once he actually got going. He doled out these little details in between licks at his shake. Tease.

'266 bhp engine power?'

He shook his head smugly. '302.'

'Seriously?' I bounced on my stool. 'Only a handful of those were ever made with the bigger engine. What colour?'

'Black.'

The _click_ sound was the last nail dancing gleefully into my coffin. I was so a goner over this guy. All my fantasies about Quatre's powder-blue Italian model went swirling off to sea. Trowa could keep them both.

I wanted an Aston Martin with Heero in it.

'Any chance you'd ever take me for a spin?'

'Possibly. If you're very good.'

'Heero! Are you flirting with me?'

'It's taken you this long to notice?' There were a cute little beginnings of a smile glimmering around the corners of his mouth. 'Yes, I am. Is that acceptable?'

'You bet! Flirting is good! So what happens if I'm very bad instead? Would I get pressed up against the car again?'

Oh, he _could _smile properly when he wanted! Oh, yeah. 'That would be a distinct possibility, yes.'

Wow. I hadn't even kissed the guy, hadn't even touched him, really, and I was going to come if he kept talking like that.

'I think that pretty much guarantees that my behaviour is going to be bad.'

'I thought it might.' He leaned across the counter, holding my hand palm up and tracing the lines with one finger. Oh God. If he could make me feel like that, just touching my hand, what was the _rest _of it going to be like? 'First though, I'm going to take you to dinner, as soon as Quatre gets here, so we can get to know each other a little bit.'

'You don't have to do that. I can fix us up something here. We've got freezers full of food.'

'Don't be silly,' he said firmly. 'I'm not going to let you cook on our first date.'

_First date!_

'Then I'm going to take you for a drive down by the coast, and we can get to know each other a little bit more. Will that be all right with you?'

A hot guy in a hot car. _Yeah_, that was all right.

It's not true about love at first sight.

It takes thirty seven minutes.


	3. Morning After

Disclaimer: They do not, of course, belong to me in any shape or form. Trowa's musical tastes in this fic do not necessarily reflect those of the author.

Note: I know I'd marked this as complete, but the characters (and my beta reader) decided there was more to come….There will be at least one more chapter with Duo and Heero.

Many thanks to KS for reading over, to Mifibou for the superb French translation of the previous chapters, and to all the people who sent such lovely reviews.

**Chapter 3:**

I woke up alone the next morning.

It took a few seconds for my sleep-starved, sex-sated brain to stop panicking.

His clothes, which had been strewn over the floor were neatly folded on a chair; he hadn't seemed like the sort of guy who'd walk out naked. If I craned my neck, I could just make out his car parked behind Howard's; Duo must have put it there last night.

Plus from the kitchen; I could hear and smell breakfast being prepared; bacon sizzling; coffee percolating; the ping of the toaster.

Wow.

He hadn't left; he'd just got up to make breakfast.

I'd definitely snagged a treasure this time. I suppose the decent thing would have been to go and help him out a bit. Doing the indecent thing - lying there, waiting for him to come back and going over certain memories - was way more entertaining.

It hadn't just been a dream brought on by way too much caffeine. I'd had those; this was different. And the dreams had never included the guy staying around to cook for me.

After we'd got back from the restaurant, I'd invited him up for a drink. A few hours later, we'd even managed to get around to putting the kettle on. At some point, we'd definitely made coffee. I couldn't remember drinking it.

'Good morning.' There was just a tiny suggestion of shyness in his smile; very endearing. He'd also somehow assembled two very impressive looking plates of Eggs Benedict out of whatever remnants of food were hiding in my kitchen. Shit; I was going to have to revise my ideas on perfect happiness being a mint-condition, signed, first edition of 'Lord of the Rings' or getting Celine Dionne's autograph. Perfect happiness was a hot, naked blond carrying food and coffee.

'Hey. I don't rate breakfast in bed very often.'

'You should.' There was a compliment in there that made me smile.

'It's not very much, I'm afraid.' Quatre slid carefully in beside me, balancing the tray with one hand. 'I couldn't find a lot of food.'

'I'll go shopping later. You can tell me what sort of stuff you like. Actually I didn't even know that I had bacon.'

'It was lurking in the freezer behind a pizza; I defrosted it. Do you not normally bother eating?'

'That's the problem with living next door to Howard's. I don't tend to keep a lot of food here; Duo says I treat the diner like my own personal larder; I think some of the things in the freezer are actually his.'

'I hadn't realised that Duo lives with you.' He'd seen my living arrangements; one bed in one bedroom. One room, period, with a tiny kitchen and bathroom tacked on at either end.

'He doesn't. He stayed here for a few months last year after he broke up with the guy he'd been living with. For the record, he slept on the couch the whole time.'

'Oh,' He swallowed, flushing slightly. 'I didn't mean to pry. It's none of my business.'

'Yes, it is. I don't know about you, but I'm not into one night stands.'

'Nor am I.' His expression was floating somewhere between relieved and embarrassed. 'I _never _do things like that, but last night was…. I'm not being too presumptuous, Trowa, am I?'

'No.' The kiss involved a lot of teasing and a little tongue at the end. 'Keep that up and I'm definitely going to keep you.'

'Keep what up?' He gave me that wicked little grin that I remembered from last night.

I grinned, remembering what had happened post-grin. 'I really, really hope you don't have anything planned for this morning. Or for the next week or so. After that, I might possibly let you out of this bed.'

Another kiss. 'I'm so sorry. I have some things I absolutely have to do this morning. But after that, I can come straight back. Will that do?'

'I'll think about it.' I took a swig of coffee. It was perfect; he'd obviously watched the way I'd made it last night. 'What are these things you absolutely have to do?'

Quatre put down his cup, ticking items off on his fingers. 'I still have a couple of car loads of things to move from my old apartment. Then I have to look for somewhere to live.'

'But you're going to live over your shop, aren't you?'

'I don't think I can.' He shuddered. 'It's terrible. There's a whole civilization of mould and the most hideous peeling wallpaper. I think I've got rats; I heard scurrying noises yesterday. And the carpet is _soggy_! It's like walking on a swamp or something.

'Did you not look at the living quarters before signing the lease?'

Quatre shook his head. 'Not properly. My original plan was never actually to _live _here. I meant to use the upstairs space for storage and maybe an office, so I didn't really pay much attention to it. Even when I realised I couldn't afford to keep my apartment, I thought it would take a couple of months to sell it and look for something cheaper, and then one of my sisters' friends got a job in Sanque and she needed a place to live straightaway. She's even offered to buy most of the furniture, but now I don't have a place to live and I don't really have time to start looking. I don't know; maybe this whole thing was just a stupid idea from the start.'

He hung his head, those lovely fingers twining around each other nervously. 'I don't have any experience in retail. I've put all the money I have into this, and I've been planning it for ages but it was always something that was going to happen in a few months' time, and now it's suddenly real and it's terrifying!'

I wrapped both arms around him, loving the way he just nestled against my chest, one finger tracing the dragon tattoo. 'You said last night it was your dream to do this. You really want to give up and go back to whatever job you were doing because you've got a couple of damp walls and a rodent problem?'

'No!' He took a deep breath. 'Thank you. You're perfectly right. I'm being an idiot, aren't I?'

'Actually, you're not. I remember the day I signed the lease on this place, three years ago. I had hourly panic attacks at the thought of how much in debt I was. You're handling it pretty well.'

'You're very kind,' he said seriously. 'And no, I don't want to go back to being an accountant. Can you remind me of that if I start panicking again, please?'

'I'll give you hourly reminders,' I said equally serious. 'I didn't know about the accountant thing. You kept that pretty quiet last night.' We'd talked about dreams and music and books but never mentioned anything so mundane as jobs.

'_Was _an accountant,' he corrected. 'Don't hold it against me, will you?'

'I'd like to hold _you _against me. I'll try to forget about what you do. Did, I mean. You don't look anything like an accountant.'

'I look different with clothes on. Actually, that's another thing I need to do this morning. I was finishing some files at the weekend; I have to drop them back to the office by ten.' He glanced at his watch. 'Trowa, I'm really sorry, but I should be going.'

'Correction. _We _should be going. I can borrow Howard's pick-up to get your stuff; that'll save you having to do a few runs in your car. We can drop the files off at your office first,

'You don't have to do all that for me.' He looked absolutely stunned. 'I can't put you to so much trouble. What about your shop?'

'I have a couple of part-timers who help out; I'm sure one of them will be available. Or Duo and Howard can keep an eye on things. Now come on. If we get up now, we can run across the road and see how bad your place really is. It's likely only damp because it's been shut up for months. We can leave the windows open to give it a good airing, and we can stop at the DIY store on the way home.'

'But…'

'Quatre, shut up.' I stopped any further protests by kissing him. 'It's no trouble. And I'm expecting all sorts of favours in kind.'

'Breakfast in bed?'

'Among other things.' I reached out to pinch his ass. 'In and out of bed. Now, I'll make a couple of calls to get someone to cover the shop so you move that cute butt of yours. You know where the shower is.' He should; I'd taken him there to clean up, midway through proceedings. I was going to have to get a bigger hot water heater. 'The sooner we go, the sooner we can get back here.'

'Yes, master.' He reached for his jeans and made a face. 'Right, I definitely need to go to my place first. I need to get some fresh clothes.'

'I guess you do at that.' I couldn't stop smiling; we were both going to need to throw last night's clothes in the washing machine. I normally had way better control than that, and he'd proven that he had, later on, but that first time had been rockets detonating and volcanoes erupting, and I was proud that I'd actually managed to drag him inside the shop first and slam the door.

'Hey, Tro. Hi Quatre. I hope my buddy here looked after you OK last night.' Duo intercepted us as were crossing the road to Quatre's place. Of course. He winked. 'You know, bought you a nice dinner and stuff.'

'He was the perfect host,' Quatre said, bland as cream, totally unruffled by Duo's teasing. 'I only hope Heero looked after you half as well.'

Duo, for practically the first time I'd known him, blushed. Yes! God, this guy was amazing.

'What?' I frowned at my best friend. 'I thought you didn't like Heero or whatever he's called.'

'Yeah,' Duo fidgeted with the end of his braid. He never does that. 'I guess we made up. So what are you guys up to?'

'Going to take a quick look at Quatre's apartment, and then move the rest of his stuff,' I supplied. 'Do you think I could borrow Howard's truck for a couple of hours?'

Duo shook his head, following us upstairs. 'He's going to the suppliers this morning. You can take the garage pick-up if you want. I'm going to be in all morning. Zechs just called to say his baby got a little scratch last night and he wants me to take a look at it.'

'He's taking his baby to a garage?' Quatre's forehead wrinkled as he glanced between us and we both laughed.

'He's my boss,' Duo filled in, 'and the 'baby' is a 1932 Rolls Royce Phantom. The love of his life; well possibly after his boyfriend but we're never quite sure which of them comes first.' He snickered. 'Or, well, that would probably be Wufei. Get it?'

'That's terrible,' Quatre groaned, laughing anyway and pushing the door open. Another plus; he got Duo's jokes straightaway. 'Ugh. Look at this place. It's a total nightmare.'

Duo and I exchanged glances; it wasn't anywhere close to a nightmare. Sure, it smelled a bit musty and damp, and there was hideous floral wallpaper and an equally awful carpet with a swirly pattern in blues and pinks, but it was perfectly habitable. By our standards anyway. If Quatre hated it that much, though, we could always do it up, very slowly, and he could share my place. And my bed. And shower. And hallway.

'It's not that bad,' I said firmly. 'Really, Quatre. I promise, we can get this place fixed up in no time. It'll look way better without this wallpaper and with a couple of coats of paint. There are probably real wooden floorboards under the carpet; these buildings are all over a hundred years old.'

'Honestly, I'm not sure if I can afford any redecorations.' He was starting to look a bit panicked again; I think maybe the giant roses on the walls were getting to him.

'Don't be stupid,' Duo snorted. 'Tro and I will help out for a few beers and pizzas, or you can pass on a few Cds. It'll be fun.'

'I don't want to be any bother.' He was looking at me. Damn, I should have been the one to offer first.

'How could you be a bother? You cook, you're a very efficient bed warmer.' I winked at him. 'I'll save a fortune not having to turn on my electric blanket. Or not eating out all the time.' Duo wandered off to explore, and I gave Quatre a quick hug. 'Listen, go and get changed. We'll collect your stuff and hit the DIY store on the way home; get some paint and stuff. And don't worry, OK? You can stay with me for as long as you want.'

Duo was in my face the minute Quatre closed the bedroom door. 'So what happened to Mr. I Don't Do One Night Stands.'

I shrugged. 'I still don't. He's more than that. I thought you liked him.'

'Sure, he seems nice, but come on, you haven't even known him a whole day! And I somehow doubt you two did a whole lot of talking last night. Tro, you saw the way he looked at this place when he walked in; what if he decides he can't take living like this and hightails it back home?' He saw my face and his expression gentled. 'Sorry, man. I just don't want you getting fond of him and getting hurt, you know? Maybe you should just lay off a bit?'

'Too late. I'm already in way too deep.' He didn't even make a joke about it. 'What happened with you and the Heero guy?'

'Not a lot. Not like you two, apparently.' His mouth twisted. 'He took me for dinner, then we went for a drive by the sea. He has a really cool car. He said he'd call me.' He shrugged. 'Whatever. Bit of a role reversal, right? You get shagged on the first date, and I get a chaste goodnight kiss.'

'Did you like him?'

More fidgeting with the braid. 'Yeah. I'll tell you later, OK? I'd better go. Zechs and Wufei are due in with the baby and you know what Wufei's like with punctuality. 'See you in a bit.'

'_Duo_! Wait a sec, will you?' Damn; too late. He was gone. Nothing in nature moves as fast as Duo Maxwell when he's running from a conversation he doesn't want to have.

'What's wrong?' Quatre asked, coming back just as his front door slammed.

'Duo had to go. I don't think things went well with him and your friend last night. Shit. Now I'm worried about him; he was really hurt by his asshole of an ex; he doesn't need any more grief.'

'Heero's not like that,' my lovely little blond said quietly. 'He's the most honorable person I've ever met. If he's interested in Duo, I promise he'll treat him well.'

'Yeah,' I muttered. 'He'd damn well better.' Shit. It probably wouldn't endear me to Quatre if I beat up his best friend. 'Let's go. You said you had to be at your office by ten.'

Quatre's apartment block was a fancy development by the harbour with a uniformed doorman and a chandelier and fountain in the foyer. Shit. If this was his natural habitat, how the hell was he ever going to settle in a couple of rooms over a shop? His _or _mine. He'd changed into an expensive-looking tailored suit; another clear indication that his world was very different. I didn't even own a suit. And his former office had been the most gleaming of all the skyscrapers in the Business District. A very far cry from where I lived.

His apartment was the penthouse. Naturally.

'I didn't realise accountants got paid this well. You're quite sure that you want to change careers?'

'Very sure,' he said positively. 'And I didn't actually get paid quite _that _well. One of my parents' companies owns this development, so I got a discounted price. It's still too expensive if I don't have a guaranteed income, though.'

Right. His parents owned companies. Plural. And they still weren't apparently prepared to support their only son in setting up his own business.

'Aren't you going to miss this place?'

'Do you like it?' Quatre looked around like he'd never really seen the place before. 'To be honest, I've never really felt it was like home. It had all been professionally decorated before I moved in, and I never got around to changing anything. I will miss the views, but most of the time, I was working so hard, I didn't really get to relax here.'

'Why did you study accounts if you hate it so much?'

'I don't. I love working with numbers. What I hated was spending twelve hours a day in a cubicle with corporate accounts that went on for ever and not seeing a living person all day. When I was a student, I did some work experience with an accountant's office that dealt only with small businesses. I really enjoyed that; I got to meet all the business owners personally and I felt I was helping them.'

'You could always do something like that as a sideline to the shop, you know. I'm terrible with accounts and I spend a fortune to get them done for me. Quatre, you do realise that shop keeping is pretty much a 24/7 job, right? It's not a hobby that you can play around with. Not if you need to make a living from it.'

He nodded. 'But it's something I'm really interested in. and I'll actually be working with people. It's different.'

He wandered over to me, putting both arms around my waist and resting his cheek against my shoulder. 'You were much more encouraging this morning. Why do I get the feeling you're trying to put me off?'

'I'm not.' I kissed the top of his head, very gently. 'It's just seeing this place; seeing you in your work clothes. I totally get now why you thought the room over the shop was a dump. Shit, you practically live in a palace.'

'A palace that I never had time to invite friends to,' he responded softly. 'I was working over sixteen hours a day; it was expected at my firm with the junior employees. Sometimes, I just fell asleep at my desk and didn't even bother coming home. I don't mind working hard; I just thought I'd lose my mind if I had to spend another day in a cubicle with no windows and look at yet another spreadsheet. I knew I needed to get out and when I met you last night, I realised just how much I'd been missing. Just going for dinner and talking about things that didn't have to do with work, and having _fun_ and being with someone who's interested in me.'

I just about melted into his kiss.

'I'm really interested in you too, Trowa. Just in case you didn't pick up on that.'

'I think I sort of got that part, actually.' I smiled at him. 'You know, we could go back to my place right now, or we could make a few good memories of this place before you have to say goodbye to it?'


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: The GW universe does not belong to me in any shape or form and this is purely for fun, not profit.

Note: This one is for my indescribably wonderful beta-reader, Kaeru Shisho, who suggested updating this one for Valentine's Day. Hopefully it will be acceptable.

Many thanks to everyone who helped with this one; to Snow, for encouragement, to Maskelle for the title, and especially to Wolfje for hilarious editing.

Warnings: Angst. Sap. Kittens.

**Furry Valentine:**

Kittens, whatever anyone tells you, do not belong in a garage. Under any circumstances. Zechs, had found the mother cat and her three tiny babies in the alley behind the garage a few weeks previously, and taken them home, cooing over how adorable they were, and how much his boyfriend would love the new additions to their family.

He'd been back the next morning, plus kitties, plus the illuminating news that Wufei had allergies. Yeah, right. Allergies to a family of cats in an antique-filled luxury apartment. He'd decided instead that it would be good to install them in the garage, as pest control. He's my boss, and they were cute, so I'd gone along with it.

They were still cute as, well, kittens, but they'd become a royal pain in the butt since they'd discovered the power of mobility. I mean that in every possible sense; they loved climbing and my skin was covered in tiny red marks where I'd disengaged exploratory kitten claws.

It was also damn hard to keep them shut in their little kitty pen; on this particular morning, Rolly and Royce were batting the tuft of my braid with their fuzzy little paws and Bentley was eyeing the Final Frontier of Zechs' sweeping mane of hair, eyes round as car tyres.

Zechs had called in for his usual mug of coffee after dropping Wufei at work and had no idea of the needle-sharp danger that was stalking his perfect, perfect hair. He owns a chain of six garages around Sanque, all of the others in much more upmarket areas. Oddly enough, this, the least profitable, is the one where he spends most of his time. Of course, that possibly has something to do with the fact that his boyfriend's antique weapons shop is a couple of doors down.

When I'd first started working here, I'd thought the daily visits were a way of checking up on me, although I'd soon copped on that it was just a handy excuse to be in the neighbourhood and call in on to a certain antique dealer. Since Wufei had finally succumbed to Zechs' adoration, they were now shacked up together, but I guess the morning drop-ins had become something of a habit for him.

'It's really weird,' I commented, showing him the day's schedule. 'I had six cars booked in for today, but they've all called up and cancelled.'

He just shrugged, tossing his hair over one shoulder, and Bentley moved a couple of paces forward, transfixed by all that hair in motion. 'It happens. I forgot to tell you; I do have one customer for you. A Mr. Lowe. He's bringing his car in at ten for a service.' He grinned at something; probably thinking about Wufei.

'Since it's so quiet, would you to mind taking a quick look at the Rolls first? I thought her engine sounded a bit off this morning, almost like she's developing a small cough. Wufei said I was imagining it, but you might take a look at her.'

'Sure. Not like I'm exactly overworked, is it?' I was pretty damn sure he was imagining it- he coddled that car like a new mother with a baby – but she was a beauty, and it was never a hardship to tinker around with her.

'Thanks. I'll leave her here then.'

'Where are you off to?'

'Just finalising plans for tonight.' He grinned at me. 'Valentine's Day, you know.'

'Oh, yeah.'

God, I'd actually managed to forget. A sheer tribute to my powers of denial, because everyone else I knew was literally wallowing in the throes of romance. Trowa's new squeeze, Quatre, had stencilled pink and gold cupids and hearts all over his shop window, and convinced Tro to let him set up a lovey-dovey display in the bookshop.

Barf.

They were bad enough on a normal day, those day; they didn't need extra romance in their lives.

Quatre had already pushed back the opening date of his music store three times, for a variety of excuses. The real reason, of course, was that he was spending every waking – or sleeping - moment with Trowa. Apparently, he'd managed to offload his apartment for some astronomical sum, so he wasn't strapped for cash.

He'd officially moved into Trowa's, claiming that the living quarters over the music shop just weren't habitable, and though he'd made a few desultory plans to remodel the place, nothing had happened yet.

As for Trowa, the man was besotted. I'd have resented the hell out of Quatre for stealing my best friend, except that I couldn't grudge him that sort of happiness.

He went around looking like he'd scored front row seats at a Celine Dion gala, and singing off-key versions of 'My heart will go on' and 'Wind beneath my Wings' when he thought no one was listening. To Quatre's eternal credit, I'd only seen him wince a couple of times, when his boyfriend tried to reach for the high notes and fell flat on his face.

I really, really was happy for him. For both of them. Quatre was a nice guy even if he'd been driving me crazy lately, passing on little messages from Heero and trying to set us up to meet.

I'd lost it a couple of days ago, informing him that if he didn't keep his cute little nose out of my business, it was going to end up broken.

Instead of getting mad, he'd flung his arms around my neck, tight enough to cut off my air supply, and told me he just _knew_ that it would all work out for me, but I would have to be brave and give Heero a chance.

Yeah, right. The guy had had his chance, and he'd flung it back in my face. I'm not stupid; once you've been burnt, you're wary about sticking your hand – or your heart –straight back into the flames.

'So what about you?' Zechs asked standing up to leave, and shooting me another of those weird-assed grins. 'Any nice romantic plans of your own?'

Bastard.

He knew damn well I didn't and I didn't bother to answer. Jerk. I was going to train my kittens to attack his hair on sight. They were going to be Ninja kittens. Let him try to maintain that pose of cool sophistication with three furballs swinging out of his hair.

'Oh well, never mind,' Zechs said airily. 'Maybe some gorgeous guy is going to turn and sweep you off to Paris for the weekend?'

'Yeah, sure,' I muttered sourly, rescuing my poor, abused braid from sneaky little kitten paws and flicking it over my shoulder. 'On his flying pig, right?'

He did another shampoo-commercial-style hair toss and three kittens started to edge closer to the imposing height of Mt. Zechs. 'Now, Duo, it's your own fault if you're not doing anything tonight. You're going to have to speak to him at some point.'

'Says who?'

He was probably all prepared for the lecture when his 'phone rang. Yay. God, I was getting so damn sick of everyone in the universe banging on about the perfect Heero Yuy, who'd made it clear as crystal meth that he wasn't interested, and then for some reason had decided to try stalking me.

The lecture never happened. The kittens dived for cover at the first sound of Wufei's irate voice, and Zechs held the 'phone a little farther from his ear.

'No, dearest,' he attempted soothingly. 'You told me not to give you roses, or a card, or any commercial Valentine's rubbish. You never said I couldn't give you a gift at all. And I'll get just as much pleasure out of it as you do.'

There was silence, blessed silence, on the other end of the line, and then Wufei muttered something that sounded like 'too much'.

'Never enough,' Zechs, always the guy with the best sappy lines, said promptly. 'Darling, I'm at the garage. Do you think there's any possibility that you could close the shop for the morning, and we could go and try out your present?'

I didn't get to hear the reply but Zechs snapped his 'phone shut and headed for the door, with the jaunty step of a guy who knows he's on his way to some pretty phenomenal sex with the love of his life. OK, I'm just guessing about the phenomenal sex, but Zechs was usually in a pretty good mood in the mornings.

'He liked it then?'

He winked at me. 'He most certainly did. I'm sure I'll have to spend the next few weeks listening to complaints about my extravagance, but I'll survive. Now, Duo, this Mr. Lowe might turn out to be an important customer, so make sure he's perfectly satisfied, all right?'

I spent the next hour happily communing with the Rolls, and the three little hairy beings took turns to swing out of my braid and generally get in my way.

At nine, Trowa rang saying that 'something had come up', and he wouldn't be able to meet up for lunch, like we'd planned. His excuse might have sounded more convincing if Quatre hadn't been giggling about something in the background.

Great, Duo. Just kiss goodbye to your best friend. He had a partner now. I obviously didn't figure on his list of priorities any more.

I lost track of time a bit after that, not realising it was getting close to the Lowe guy's appointment, until I actually heard someone clearing their throat beside me.

'Oh, hey. I'm sorry.' I straightened up, turned around and there he was. Heero fucking Yuy.

'Get out.'

'Duo, I just want to talk to you.'

'Yeah? Well, I don't want to talk to you. I thought I'd made that clear.' OK, I'd known at some point in my life I'd have to see the guy again. He was Quatre's friend, after all, and he'd been spending a lot of time around lately.

I'd had the scenario for our next meeting all planned out. I'd be dressed up in something super-sexy and I'd have some gorgeous, adoring guy on my arm, and he'd see just what he'd missed out on.

Screw you, Heero.

In none of my fantasies was I wearing my grubbiest, grease-stained overalls, with an orange kitten trying to conquer Mt. Duo via my braid.

'Get out.' I repeated. 'I'm busy. I've got a customer due any second.'

'That would be me.'

'No, that would be some guy called Lowe.'

'He's my stepfather. Duo, I'm sorry. I've been trying to talk to you for days now and you keep avoiding me.'

'That would imply I care enough about you to make the effort. I don't. You don't even register on my radar.' I reached around to remove the swinging kitty and tugged. Nothing happened.

'Let me help.' The little traitor came off for him, of course, and then snuggled happily in his arms. Right. No dinner for him.

'You are avoiding me,' Heero said firmly. 'You haven't returned any of my calls.'

'I'm busy.'

'I spent an hour ringing your doorbell on Wednesday night.'

'I wasn't home.'

'Then you've got a ghost, because I saw the curtains twitch a couple of times. And you spent two hours hiding in the cold storage room at the diner on Wednesday night just because I had dinner there with Quatre.'

'I was doing inventory,' I informed him haughtily. That was true. At least, sort of. I'd counted cartons of ice-cream until my hands got too cold. When I'd finally dared to come out, there were little icicles on my braid.

'Anyway, it's none of your business what I do. Where the hell do you get off? We had one disastrous date and you think you're my fucking stalker 'cause I let you buy me dinner? Is that what this is about? You want me to pay my share because I owe you?'

I was fumbling in my jeans pocket for my wallet when he caught my hand. 'Stop it. I don't want money. I want to know how I offended you.'

'If you can't work it out, there's no point in me telling you. And if you don't let me go my hand, I'm going to pick up that wrench and break every one of your fingers. Got that?'

'Go ahead.' Those blue eyes bored into me, daring me to do it. 'But I'm not letting you go until you tell me what's wrong. As far as I'm concerned, our date was amazing. Not a disaster at all. I told you I wanted spend more time with you and I meant it. I still do. Duo, just tell me what's wrong. Please. Don't you think you at least owe me an explanation?'

I shrugged. The truth was that it had been pretty amazing.

We'd driven along the coast to a swanky little seafood place. I'd even turned down his offer to drive his car, so I could look at him rather than at the road. After dinner, he'd suggested a walk on the beach.

I'd assumed this would be a marathon make-out session and we had kissed but we'd also talked for hours. That was new, for me. Most guys didn't ask me out for my fascinating conversation. I'm not vain, but I'm not blind either. Heero had laid out a fortune on a classy dinner; he'd presumably be expecting to get laid in return.

Heero had seemed genuinely interested in me, though, and I'd responded by pretty much giving him my life story. I'd even told him the stuff I never told anyone; like how my dream of owning my own garage had evaporated a year or so ago, when my boyfriend had withdrawn my life savings from the joint account he'd persuaded me to set up with him, and headed for a Las Vegas wedding chapel with the girl he'd sworn was 'just a friend'.

'I don't owe you anything, you jerk,' I yelled at him, yanking at my hand. Shit, he was strong. I'd somehow forgotten that. He'd been so damn gentle and affectionate on the beach, I'd forgotten that the first time we'd met, he'd slammed me against a car.

He did it again now. Lucky Zechs wasn't there, or he'd have had even more kittens, in case the Rolls' arctic white paintwork got scratched or dented. Hell. It's not easy to look intimidating when you're holding a six week old fluffy kitten. Heero managed it no problem, and I actually felt a tiny little frisson of something that might have been fear or desire or a mix of the two.

'You owe me some sort of explanation, damnit!' he shouted. God, he was utterly, totally gorgeous when he got mad. Sapphire sparks flying from his eyes, and that sinfully sexy hair was practically standing on end. Shit, if he'd actually been my boyfriend, I would have had to provoke this sort of rage on a regular basis, just to see him like this. Oof, I could bet the make up sex would probably register on the Richter scale. Wow_. _

_OK bad thoughts, Maxwell. You hate this guy, remember?_

'I am _sick_ of you running away all the time,' he hissed, dropping the kitty and leaning in to pin both of my wrists against the car door. 'Now, you are going to _talk_ to me, Duo. No more of your excuses. I know damn well you don't have anywhere else to be this morning. I've already paid for my car to have a full service and if necessary I will stand over you while you do it until you tell me exactly what is wrong.'

'Screw you!' I kicked out furiously, feeling a nice little spurt of happiness when I caught him in the shins and he flinched. Hah! Pity I hadn't kicked him in the balls. 'You didn't buy me, you dickhead. Now take your car and get out of my life.'

'No.'

It's a lie, a total evil lie about lightning never striking twice. That seemed to be the pattern for Heero's and my relationship. Relationship thingy. Whatever it was. He would bodyslam me against some gorgeous classic car and I would do my damndest to get away.

Well. There were a few differences. We were face to face this time, his gorgeous, furious face just an inch or so from mine. And that unfairly strong, perfect body was pressing me against the car. Poor car.

Poor me.

I stopped struggling after a few minutes. It wasn't doing any good. He was enjoying it, the bastard. He loosened his hold on my wrists, just a little bit, and then released me entirely, sliding both arms around me.

'Duo,' he whispered, and I swear, there was a weird little catch in his voice. 'Just tell me what I did wrong.'

It would have been the perfect chance to knock him down to the ground, catching him off guard.

I didn't.

'I don't get you,' I said finally. 'I don't get how you can be so hot and cold. I thought we had a real connection that first night. Then you just drove me home, and dumped me on my doorstep and couldn't get away fast enough. Shit, I asked you in, and I don't normally do that, and you made it damn obvious that you weren't interested in me.'

I could still play that whole, humiliating episode in my head whenever I wanted. I _didn't_ normally do stuff like that. I liked to flirt a little bit, but I backed off when things started to get too heavy. There hadn't been anyone serious since Solo. I'd offered myself to Heero on a plate, and he'd refused.

I'd spent so much time agonising over what I'd done wrong, over whether he'd thought I was a total slut who had a revolving door into his bedroom, or whether he just wasn't interested in me, period. Maybe I'd just spent too much time bending his ear with all my problems, and he hadn't been remotely interested.

It took me a minute to realise that the weird, harsh sound was Heero laughing. It sounded like he didn't get a lot of practice at it.

'You've got it all wrong. It wasn't like that,' he said urgently, just in time to stop me taking a swing at him. 'I swear, I was interested, but I didn't want you to think I was just after sex.'

'What?'

He shook his head. 'I wanted you so much, but you'd told me all about that man who hurt you, and the other guys you've been with since then, and I wanted you to know that I was different. That I wanted more; to be your friend and someone you could trust and talk to.'

'For real?' I peeked up at him through my bangs.

'For real.' He took my hand again, this time I let him. 'I still want all those things. Please, just give me a chance.'

'But…' Shit, it was hard to think with his fingers touching mine, his eyes looking at me like that. 'Jesus, Heero. I thought you weren't into me. I mean, after I'd invited you in, you couldn't wait to get my ass out of the car. You took off like Death was after you.'

'Oh, Maxwell,' he said, leaning in to kiss my lips, gentle as the brush of a kitten's whiskers. 'Just how much self control do you think I actually have? I wanted you so much, but I wanted it to be more than just a one night stand. I wanted it to mean something, for both of us.'

I gave myself a little pinch, just to make sure this wasn't all some dream. It was too, too perfect to be real.

'But I called you the next day and you totally blew me off.'

He sighed gustily, slipping his free hand around my waist, and pulling me closer. Not fair, damn it; how was I supposed to think when I was being held against that gorgeous body? 'Duo, I told you I had to go away for three days on business. I've tried calling you every day since then and you refused to talk to me.'

'I thought you'd given me the brush off,' I muttered. 'I couldn't get why you were still pestering me.'

'You're an idiot,' he said softly, making it an endearment. 'I thought we had a connection, too.' He pressed just a little closer, backing me against the Rolls which was going to have a Duo-sized dent in the right door. Zechs was going to kill me. Well, Heero could protect me. 'Let me take you out tonight.'

'No.'

He gaped at me, looking for all the world like a cod that's just felt the first stab of the filleting knife.

'It's Valentine's Day,' I said softly. 'Everywhere's going to be crowded; lousy service, exorbitant prices. Let me cook for you; the diner's closing early, so we'll have it to ourselves. I'll make you the best burger you've ever had in your life and we can play the jukebox and talk. Or whatever.'

I flicked him a sly little, through-the-eyelashes smile, a move I'd seen Quatre pull on Trowa a couple of times. Heero apparently wasn't immune to it either. Yes!

'What exactly would _whatever _involve?'

'Up to you.' My smile was super-demure, any other little tip I'd picked up from Trowa's blond. 'We could maybe dance a little bit, and see what happens.'

'I told you I didn't want to rush things,' he murmured.

Oh yeah. That. No rushing; sort of flattering in one way. OK, really flattering. He wanted to get to know me as a whole person; personality and hobbies and stuff. And I wanted to know all that about him too. Although I also wanted to drag him into the Rolls and try out those custom-made leather seats.

'How is dancing rushing things?'

'Duo.' He took a step back, holding me at arm's length, and giving me a long, appraising look. Very hot. 'You are incredibly attractive. But we _are_ going to take this slowly.'

'Slow dancing?' I teased. 'I can do that. I'll even let you lead, sometimes.'

He gave me an exasperated little huff. 'Why do I doubt that?'

'You doubt me? I'm hurt.'

'Dinner.' He said it was like he was ticking things off in his head. 'Dancing. Talking. But no sex.'

'Not even a little bit?' Ooh, I could see this resolve melting away before my eyes. And there were other things….hardening. 'No kissing, even?'

'Kissing would be acceptable.'

'Just on the mouth or other places?'

'Brat.' He dropped a kiss on my forehead. 'Perhaps some other places. Now, I love your plan for the evening and we'll definitely do it some other time, but I have arrangements already in place for us tonight. Are you wearing anything under those sexy overalls?'

'Of course I am.'

'Hmmm. Shame.' Before I could blink, he'd whizzed the zip down and I was standing there in my red sweater and jeans, a puddle of denim at my feet. 'You look really good in red. Now, come on. You'll need a jacket and you probably should put those kittens somewhere safe before we leave.'

'Leave?' I blinked at him. 'Heero, what are you talking about? I can't just walk out.'

'You certainly can.' He stopped my next protest very effectively with another kiss. 'As I said, I've got plans and we're on a rather tight time schedule.. And before you start arguing, it's all planned. Trowa and Quatre have packed a bag for you, and your passport, and they're going to call over and feed the cats. Zechs has already informed your customers that the garage is closed for the next three days, and your uncle has found someone else to help in the Diner.'

'You were all in on it! I don't believe this!'

'Believe this!' He swooped in and captured my mouth. Not gentle at all. That kiss pretty much killed any more objections. Never argue with a man whose mouth can turn your bones to molten jelly.

You'll never win.

'You're really planning to take me away for the weekend?' I didn't even bother asking where we were going. For one, it didn't matter. But, seriously, if he'd gone to this much trouble, getting all my friends to help, he had to know the one place I'd always dreamed of visiting.

He tapped my forehead with the knuckles of one hand. 'You're slow this morning. Yes, Duo, I am. Is that acceptable?'

'Uh. I guess so.' I took a deep breath, dragging air into my lungs. God, this was for real.

'Erm, this whole getting to know each other first thing; is that still on?'

Heero smiled at me. 'I hope we'll spend the rest of our lives getting to know each other.' His beautiful blue eyes glinted teasingly. 'As a short term measure, I've made up a couple of questionnaires for initial research purposes. We can fill them in on the 'plane. Which we are going to miss if we don't hurry. Come on.'

Falling in love at first sight is easy. It only takes thirty seven minutes. Like Heero said, getting to know someone properly takes a lot longer.

But I can't think of anything I'd rather do with my life.


End file.
